Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Xie Yijue needed my father’s influence in the imperial court.

He needed a primary wife with the right pedigree, someone who could manage his household and handle social obligations.

I was the legitimate daughter of the first wife, and my maternal grandfather held a second-rank official position. We were a perfect match in status.

Coincidentally, I was also Ji Zhi’s elder sister.

By marrying me, he could secure the support of his in-laws while simultaneously protecting his beloved.

It would prevent her from falling into the hands of some other primary wife who might mistreat her.

He certainly had it all figured out.

Unfortunately, he had miscalculated when it came to me.

If being the subject of two high-level exorcisms arranged by one’s own father counted as having a “virtuous reputation,” then there truly were no wicked women left in this capital.

After Xie Yijue left, Ji Zhi returned. She gave me a smile that was sickeningly sweet yet bone-chillingly cold.

I walked straight toward her.

She stood her ground, waiting until I was right in front of her before softly calling out, “Sister.”

I stopped and looked at her.

She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper that only the two of us could hear.

“Sister, a wife must follow her husband. From now on, we shall be spending a long, long time together.”

I raised my hand.

She flinched instinctively, her neck shrinking back, but she didn’t actually dodge.

Instead, she tilted her face up, a malicious glint shining in her eyes. Her voice grew even lighter, even sweeter.

“Go ahead, Sister, hit me. If Brother Heir sees my face swollen… he will only pity me more.”

I didn’t strike her. My hand simply landed on her face.

I stroked it gently.

Father doted on her as well.

He gave her all the best things, and she had been raised with skin as delicate as fine jade.

“Why would I?” I asked.

The smile on her face finally crumbled. “You ruined my mother.”

A poisonous hatred surged in her eyes.

“I want you to be just like your mother-never receiving a shred of your husband’s affection, wasting away and dying in the inner chambers while you wait for a man who never comes.”

I looked at her and smiled.

The wind rustled through the leaves.

“Fine,” I said.

My sister was always so foolish.

She underestimated me far too much.

And she placed far too much value on the word “love.”

My mother was never favored.

While she was alive, she watched as Father showered Concubine Liu with all his love, respect, and every good thing he possessed.

She lived with a constant knot of resentment in her heart, and her health slowly withered away.

The day she died was Concubine Liu’s birthday.

The front courtyard was decorated with lanterns and streamers, bursting with festive life.

Her nanny hurried about, frantic to call a physician.

But Mother shook her head, her breath weak.

“No need… Go, go ask the Master to come… I… I won’t make it… I only want to see him one last time…”

She held onto her final breath, gazing longingly at the door.

The little maid who had been sent out came back crying, collapsing by the bed.

She was alone.

“The Master… the Master said… no matter how big the matter… he must finish celebrating the Concubine’s birthday first…”

Mother’s eyes snapped wide, a rattling sound coming from her throat.

A spray of dark red blood splattered onto her plain white sleeping robes.

It was a startling, gruesome sight.

“Sanlang… Sanlang…”

She murmured the name, and finally, with a look that was half-sob and half-smile, she let out a long sigh.

“Betrayed… in the end… I was betrayed…”

I looked down at her, my face expressionless.

She looked at me, her gaze turning vacant and doting.

I knew she wasn’t looking at me.

She was merely looking through my features, desperately trying to piece together Father’s shadow.

She said, “Yuntan, you look so much like your father.”

“It’s good to be like him… the heartless… always live the longest…”

“Don’t be like your mother… trapped in ‘love’ for a lifetime…”

“A mistake…”

A single tear slid from the corner of her eye, soaking into the graying hair at her temples.

Her lips moved, and with her very last breath, she was still calling for my father.

“Sanlang…”

The wails of the servants erupted.

I simply stood there, watching her face slowly turn pale and blue.

Inside, I felt nothing but a vast, empty void.